Lucid Dreaming
by Midsummer'sQueen
Summary: Cora has never given much thought to what faction she will choose during the Choosing Ceremony, but when her sister makes a choice neither of them saw coming, everything in her world shifts. Now Cora will have to face a world she never thought she would know, and a world she thought she knew, to protect the ones she cares for most. Rating is subject to change.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** This story is loosely based on Veronica Roth's Divergent series, specifically the events explained in_ Divergent_ and her short story, _Free Four_.

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**Chapter One**

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Eight clouds in the sky. Two of them collide in a soft but deadly collision, morphing them into one behemoth of white cotton. The others laze about without concern.

My neck is starting to go numb, but if I move someone will see me, and I'll be forced to back to work. I would rather not do that. I don't like working in the fields. It's too hot, and dirt gets under my nails and I have to clean them for hours or I go crazy, like I can feel every speck of dirt that gets under them. I'd rather just stick to harvesting from the fruit trees in the orchard, the place I'm currently hiding from my fellow Amity members in. So far it's been an hour, and no one has come looking for me. I can thank my friend Henry for that, since I'd promised him my dessert for a month if he covered for me. He must have been successful, since no one has found me so far.

I bite into an apple that had been dangling near my face, the juice dribbling out of the corner of my mouth and leaving a sticky trail towards my ear. It leaves an annoying itch behind that I attempt to scratch with as minimal movement as possible. The attempt nearly has me falling off the branch I'm resting on.

I hear laughter not too far away, and I freeze. A girl wearing red overalls and a boy with a sack slung over his shoulder pass below me. I gulp silently, recognizing the boy as Mateo, the one in charge of those working in the fields today. I stay completely still as they walk by, so far completely unaware that I'm here. Their pace slows as he tells a joke to the girl next to him, and she laughs full heartedly. Please don't look up. Please don't look up. Oh, just move on already will you? Flirt somewhere else!

Thankfully my mental prodding does the trick and they move on without a fuss, but not before Mateo steals a kiss from the girl's lips. They get two rows of trees ahead of me before I relax again. That was close. If Mateo had seen me skipping field duty again I would have been sent to the kitchen with Mauve. The only fate worse than having dirt under my fingernails is having half-eaten food under them instead.

"Cora, we need you!" someone shouts, and I look down to see Henry running towards me. I jump down from my branch with little difficulty to meet him. He's breathing heavily, his hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. He grabs hold of my hand and starts dragging me back in the direction he came, his words not making sense as they tumble breathlessly from his mouth.

"Henry, slow down!" I complain, feeling a stitch start to form in my side. He looks back at me, and only one word he answers me with makes sense.

"Clara!" he says. My heart clenches, and I let go of his hand to go at a full sprint. I ignore the stitch. _Clara._ Something has happened to my sister.

When we reach the other side of the orchard I see a small group huddled around her. I cry out her name as we get closer, and a few people move out of the way for me to reach her. She's doubled over in what looks to be extreme pain, tears streaming down her face as she convulses with her forehead in the dirt. I fall to her side and clutch her shoulder, urging her to look at me.

"Where does it hurt?" I ask. She whimpers back at me, not even trying to form words. I look back at one of the boys crowded around me. "Can someone carry her to the infirmary? She needs her medicine, now!" Immediately an older boy, Colin, steps forward. He takes Clara into his leathery hands, beaten brown from the sun's hot rays, and cradles her to his barrel-like chest. His strides are longer than mine, but adrenaline pushes me to keep up.

My mother, the Head nurse, is already at the infirmary when we burst in. She glides over to meet us, folding me into her arms before motioning for Colin to place Clara in an empty bed. He does as she instructs, and I don't waste any time.

"We'll need to hold her down." I tell Colin, who looks nervous but complies. He goes to restrain her feet as she convulses again, her whimpering transforming into tormented screams. I bite the inside of my cheek as I hold down her shoulders, mom approaching with a syringe filled with lavender liquid. She hasn't had an episode this bad in a long time. I've never heard such a tortured scream in my whole life.

"Hold her steady, sweetheart." Mom murmurs in her usual gentle voice. "I need to inject it in her neck." I nod and put more pressure on her shoulders. I force Clara to look at me.

"Clara, I know it hurts, but you need to hold still so we can help." I tell her sternly. "Just look at me, and it'll be over soon."

"It hurts!" she sobs, chocking on her words as if she can't breathe, but she looks at me all the same. Her chest rises and falls at such a rapid pace it disturbs me. I try my best to ignore it as I focus on her face, just like my own. Mom inserts the needle, but Clara hardly seems to notice, her blotchy face scrunched in suppressed screams as she convulses again. We continue to hold her down, Colin and me, until it subsides again. It doesn't take long for the medicine to kick in, and she's calm again. She collapses, her whole body relaxed and finally still. Mom smoothes down her sweat-drenched hair and kisses her ear.

"You did well, honey." She says, but her voice shakes. I look up at her. This really was as bad as I thought it was, if it has shaken up our mother.

No one knows what Clara's condition is, only that it decided to show itself one summer afternoon, on the hottest day of the year. She first complained about a small pain in her lower back, but as the day progressed the pain had moved up her back before spreading out to the rest of her. By the time the noon sun was overhead she had collapsed into a fit of convulsions, in unexplainable pain. Ever since then she has randomly collapsed from phantom pains no one can understand. The Erudite have used her in experiments, trying to figure out exactly what she has, but so far no answers have been found. It wasn't long after that mom was promoted to Head nurse, so she can take care of her whenever she collapses, like today.

Once Clara is calm and sedated Mom takes Colin's face into her hands in a warm and loving gesture, thankfulness in her smoky gray eyes.

"Thank you for carrying her here, Colin." She says, kissing him on the cheek. "I'll be sure to send Cora over your house soon to give you some fresh jam and some biscuits as a proper thank you." Colin blushes under her lips but smiles away, looking over at me. He rubs the back of his head bashfully.

"Don't think anything of it." He tells us, though he looks rather happy. "I just wanted to help." Mom smiles up at him innocently, but I can see a small glimmer in her eyes. I turn towards Clara who is already half asleep, but she hasn't missed our mother's intentions. She rolls her eyes at me, and I stifle a grin that twitches in the corner of my mouth. Mom has a habit of trying to play matchmaker with us, and this is no exception. But since Clara is currently bedridden it seems I'm to be the victim this time. I almost feel jealous of Clara for being sick. Almost.

When Colin leaves with another promise of jam and biscuits made by our mother, she turns to me and opens her arms. "My sweet girl." She says as she hugs me tightly. "You always take such good care of your sister. I know this must not be easy, but thank you for being here to help me." I flush under her praise, awkwardly looking over at Clara, but she's already drifted away from us. It isn't easy, but I don't want Clara to get the wrong impression. It's not like I consider it a burden or anything. I pull away from Mom and smile.

"What are sisters for?" I say, and she smiles back. Her hands go from hugging to shooing in three seconds.

"Okay, back to what work you were doing or not doing." She says knowingly, ushering me out of the infirmary. "Clara needs to rest now. I'll keep her here for awhile and let her sleep off the medicine's effects." I take one last look at my sister, fully unconscious from the medicine now. She looks small and fragile as she lays there.

"Do you think she'll be okay for tomorrow?" I ask, suddenly concerned. Tomorrow we are to take our Aptitude tests with the rest of the sixteen-year-olds, to see in which faction we belong, and the day after is the Choosing Ceremony, when we decide for ourselves where we would like to go. If Clara isn't healthy enough to go, she won't be able to make up for it. She might be labeled as Factionless. The thought makes my stomach churn.

Mom looks at me with pursed lips and a forced smile. She pats my arm, simultaneously pushing me gently into the hall.

"She'll be alright." She tells me softly. "Clara is a strong girl, she'll recover from this quickly. She always does." She tucks my bangs behind my ear, her smile back to normal. "Now go back to your friends. Let your mother worry about your sister for awhile. Go take the afternoon off." With that she closes the door, and I'm left staring though a small glass window as she returns to Clara's bedside. I sigh and wring my hands together. Poor Clara.

Or maybe it's poor me. Mom had told me to stop worrying about Clara for the afternoon, but that's nearly impossible for me. Ever since her first attack, which I had been there to witness, I've felt this responsibility to watch over her, to protect her. I had felt so useless during her first convulsion that I had started to blame myself for not seeing the signs beforehand. Sometimes I wonder, if I had just taken her to see mom back when she had first complained about her back, maybe this whole thing could have been prevented in the first place. It's stupid to think about what-ifs and could-have-beens, but sometimes I can't help but think that her current condition is my fault in some ways. That, as her twin sister, I should have noticed that something was wrong.

I move sluggishly back towards the orchard, my mind stuck on Clara's sobbing face. Only When Henry and Monique approach do I start focusing on what's around me. Monique greets me with a hug, the usual greeting for the Amity, and gives me a look of concern.

"Heard about Clara's collapse." She says. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I say. Henry clasps my back a we all walk together.

"Ange and a few others wanna go to the swimming hole for the rest of the afternoon, do you wanna come with?" he asks, slinging his arm over my shoulder and offering a huge grin. "I mean, it's not like you were doing anything anyway, might was well do nothing with the rest of us." I smile back and nod, but Clara is still in the back of my mind. When was the last time she was allowed to go swimming without fear of having a convulsion underwater? As if reading my thoughts, Henry's smile fades. "Hey, don't worry, your mom is looking after her, right?" he says, tugging at my bun. "Try to relax okay? She's gonna be fine."

"Yeah girl, lighten up." Monique adds, her hand clasping mine in reassurance. "Clara's got the Head nurse looking after her, she's fine."

"Yeah." I agree. I know I should just relax already like mom said and just go have fun with my friends. I'm sure Clara would just be annoyed by my worrying anyhow, but I still feel a small twinge of guilt leaving her in the infirmary. I hadn't even known she was working today. If I had, I wouldn't have skipped, or made her skip with me.

At the swimming hole we meet the others. Angelica, my best friend in the compound, shrieks my name and runs up to hug me. I laugh as we almost tip over, and she drags me over to the rest of the group with Monique and Henry in tow. Colin is there too, and he meets my eyes with a small blush. He's probably still thinking about my mom, or he's thinking about Clara and how he helped us hold her down. A flush of my own creeps up my neck, and I look away from him. I feel ashamed, but not for me. I'm sure Clara would have rather not had someone outside of the family see her like that. I know I wouldn't.

Angelica sits on a quilted blanket, and I plop down next to her to take off my shoes. Henry is already armed with his banjo, and he strums a few chords as Monique passes around a small basket of blackberries. On her other side is a small jug of seasoned wine, probably "borrowed" from the kitchen. I can guess that it's already more than halfway gone. We like to borrow the wine a lot.

Colin and Andy waste no time in taking possession for the rope swing, taking turns to see who can fling themselves further and further out into the lake's placid water. The water is a clear blue that reflects the sky above us, the sun winking at us from under the depths. The swimming hole is man-made and created strictly for recreational use, complete with a dock in the middle of the lake and a natural slide on the other side. Edible plants grow everywhere for those who get hungry, and a natural repellent keeps the bugs at bay. I lean back on my elbows as I watch the boys in their contest, taking a handful of berries from Ange as she passes them over my head. The berries stain my fingers purple and I lick them clean with a grin as Monique sings along to Henry's banjo. Andy splashes her with water to make her stop, and we all shriek when the cool water sprinkles our bare skin.

When Angelica gets up to go into the water, Colin settles down in her abandoned spot. He turns to look at me with a small grin, and I smile sheepishly back.

"Thanks for, um, today." I say, the flush returning as I focus on the lake's surface. I feel him inch closer to me, and I instantly feel the difference in the space between us.

"Does that happen often? I mean, is Clara… okay?" I look up at him, a flush rushing to my cheeks when I see he's a lot closer than I had thought. I lean away from him to get some distance between us.

"It does." I reply, but my voice feels caught in my throat. He bobs his head in a familiar nod, and he places a large hand on my elbow. His hand encompasses my arm easily, his calluses rough on my skin. It raises the hairs on the back of my neck.

"That's a rotten shame." He murmurs, trying, it seems, to be sympathetic. I swallow hard, because it really is a shame, but he just doesn't know how much. Clara his become so limited by this strange condition of hers, and there's a lot of things she can't do, probably will never be able to do ever again. I look away from him and try to pull my arm back, but his grip won't let me. He leans in close again, so close that his collarbone brushes against my shoulder.

"Um, I'm here if you, you know, always need someone to talk to about it." He says, stroking my arm lightly with the back of his hand. He's trying to be comforting, I know that, but I get nervous all the same. I can't stop thinking about my mother now, and her stupid antics. I don't want to look into Colin's face, afraid I might see him caught in her trap like other boys before him. But I have to look, because if I don't look I'll lose my balance trying to scoot away from him. As I thought, his face is unexpectedly close, his warm brown eyes looking expectantly to me. I purse my lips together and nod tightly.

"Thanks, Colin." I tell him, tasting the fake sweetness in my own words and making me sick. "But, I'm okay." I get up and leave him there, then, and meet Angelica by the water. I can feel how red my face is, and I don't dare look back to see what kind of expression Colin might be wearing. I feel bad for rejecting him, but I don't have time for things like that. Not while Clara is the way that she is.

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**Author's Note;**

**Hello everyone! It's been awhile since I've been here, ha! This is my newest story on this website, and my first written in the first person. Please leave any constructive criticisms you may have, because I doubt that my writing is perfect. Please do keep in mind, though, that I'm writing this story with a lot of liberties and very little information (where _Free Four_ and Tobias's past is concerned, I mean). I hope you will enjoy my story anyway, and take it as is: a fan fiction. Thanks for reading!**

**-M_q_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

I sneak into the infirmary early in the morning to see Clara wide awake, grinning at the feast I've brought with me. Behind me files in Henry, Angelica, and Monique, who push another bed over so we can all sit comfortably in a circle. We grab what goodies we want from the pile. I go straight for the fruit and cheese, and Clara takes a pastry, stuffing it in her mouth until her cheeks puff out with effort.

"Whoa, calm down before you choke!" Monique exclaims as she swallows. Clara just shruggs and grabs another.

"I get ravenous after an episode." She says lightly. "Pass the jam, will you Cor?" she sends a sly grin my way as she says it, and I realize she's teasing me about yesterday. Heat prickles the back of my neck as I pass it to her with a weighted stare.

"I thought you were out of it when that happened." I accuse. She sticks her tongue out at me as she slathers the red preserves over her biscuit.

"I was pretending." She sings, "well, for the most part."

"What? What happened?" Ange asks automatically. Her and Monique lean in with curious looks as Henry catches my eye across the circle. He and I both know Ange's love of gossip better than anyone. He rolls his eyes skyward with a funny look that causes me to giggle.

"Well," Clara drags on, biting her breakfast in half, "A strapping young man by the name of Colin carried me in yesterday on Cora's demanding instructions, and now our mother has convinced herself that their corporation in saving me is a sure sign of a marriage to come."

"It's nothing new." I say quickly as their sparkling eyes land on me. "She does this every time I get someone to carry her in with me. Usually she takes their 'daring' rescues to be signs of their unfailing love for Clara, but…" I trail off remembering her convulsing form, the tenseness of her muscles and her screams as if she were being torn apart from the inside out. My cheese goes down roughly as I stare into my hands.

"Yeah but not all of them respond to her set ups." Angelica goes on for me, not even noticing my pause. "That's why he went to talk to you at the swimming hole right? He looked like he was gonna kiss you!"

"No he wasn't!" I cry incredulously, snapping my attention to her with reddening ears. "You're being silly, Colin barely knows who I am!"

"He doesn't need to, if you think about it." Monique adds in after a sip of her drink. "I mean, you're pretty, and you were a damsel in distress. Guys love a damsel in distress." She looks over at Henry as she says this with a fox's grin. _"Right,_ Henry?"

"Oh, yeah." Henry drawls sarcastically, but I can see the skin on his cheeks darkening and the small flicker of his gaze towards Angelica. Last summer, Ange had almost drowned in the swimming hole after her leg cramped. He was the first to jump in and get her, and since then he's been tight knit in our group. It's been obvious since then how much he likes Angelica. Well, to everyone except Angelica.

"I'm not getting into this." I sigh, saving the both of us from more embarrassment. He looks over at me gratefully, but he doesn't need to thank me. I would love to move onto the next conversation as soon as possible. I choose a safe, mundane topic I know both of them will love just as much. "So what are you guys planning to wear to the Choosing Ceremony?" Immediately the two of them launch into their plan A's and plan Q's and ask the rest of us our opinions on each. Before we know it it's time for us to board the trucks to class, and the knot in my chest has all but disappeared.

On the trucks into the city, a banjo plays softly from the back. Henry waves to us as we scoot in, our giggling turning into shrieking when we find out a few of us have to sit on laps instead of wood. The girl next to me begins braiding my hair, singing loudly in my ear as Henry plays a song we all know. I clap my hands to the beat and a few boys stamp their boots. I feel like the whole world can hear us, and I'm glad for it. Let the other factions know what they're missing by not valuing peace. Here, in the back of a dirty truck, we've found paradise.

The halls are cramped as usual as I walk with Clara to class. The colors of the different factions blend together as students move around each other, eager to finish up classes before the Aptitude tests start in the afternoon. Clara looks completely fine, her cheeks back to their rosy tint under her sun kissed complexion, as if yesterday's attack had never happened.

"What do you think you'll get?" Clara asks me, walking backwards so she's facing me. I shrug lightly. I haven't thought much about what my results would be, because I've always expected to live my days out in the peaceful pastures of Amity's compound. The idea of joining a different faction has never crossed my mind.

"How about you?" I ask. She copies my earlier gesture, but a sigh accompanies the slump in her shoulders.

"Dunno." She says. "Maybe Abnegate. I do like helping others." I wrinkle my nose at the thought. I have nothing against the Abnegate personally, but their lifestyle is far from appealing to me. Helping others is great and all, but I can't imagine living my life the way they do: straight-laced, quiet, stiff. I'd probably die of boredom.

Clara and I split off at the end of the hall, her towards Faction History, and me towards Music Theory. I wave goodbye to her before she slips into her classroom, only to bump into someone's chest as I turn around.

"Sorry!" I yip, and then I notice the person is wearing all black. Cold sweat breaks out on my neck as I look into the eyes of a Dauntless. He looks back down at me, his pierced lip curled up into a wolfish grin.

"What's the matter, Softie? Drink too much peace serum with your breakfast this morning?" he snickers. "Your eyes look a little glazed. Maybe you should skip your lunch dose."He looks me up and down, leering. "On second thought, maybe you should skip lunch altogether." My cheeks flare bright red as he walks away, laughing, but I keep walking as if the exchange had never happened. The Amity are peaceful, we do not cause conflicts, nor do we rise to the bait of others. A piece from our manifest plays in the back of my mind. _"The opinions of others cannot damage you." _I breathe in. Only I can make myself inferior to others, no one else has that power. I breathe out, and the negativity goes with it. I smile and walk into class. At least I can rule out one faction I will not be choosing tomorrow with dead certainty.

After lunch, the testing begins. I sit with Clara as we watch people get up ten at a time. I glance around the room to check out the other factions' tables. The Erudite all seem to be in their own little worlds, their heads buried in their books or discussing theories quietly to one another. The Candor have gotten themselves into another debate, something about the truth about truth. The Abnegate sit quietly with their hands folded, most of them looking at the grains of the table. I try to imagine Clara sitting with them, her bob cut to fit a more uniform style, her eyes trained to look down at her hands folded over a gray ankle-length skirt. The image does not stick for long, especially when I look over to see her clapping along to a sing-along Mary has started. I smile openly when she meets my gaze, simultaneously taking a sip from Andy's drink when he isn't looking. He catches me putting it down again, and in retribution he grabs me by my sides and tickles me so I shriek with laughter. I can't imagine anyone wanting to leave our faction, no matter what results they get.

Then again, what happens to the person who finds they don't belong to any faction? My body stills at the thought. I've never known someone who's received a factionless result, but then again I've never known a factionless, either. It leads me to think, maybe the reason I've never thought about my result is because I'm not destined to get one at all? What if, when my results do come back, I'm actually factionless? Will I be removed from the premises immediately, like a diseased animal? Will I be forced to live in the slums, forced to live alone with nothing but the rats and garbage and a few kind Abnegation volunteers who come around to give me a cup of bland soup every now and then?

"From Amity: Clara Tinwell. Cora Tinwell. Avery Winchester."A voice calls. I take a deep breath. Finally, it's my turn.

"Great!" Clara exclaims and stands up. She grins at me. "Ready to find out where you belong?" She asks. I laugh at her, but a sudden rush of anxiety heats my neck as I step forward. I shouldn't be nervous. This is just an aptitude test, nothing more and nothing less. There's nothing to worry about.

Unless they tell me I'm factionless.

No, no, that won't happen. The thought brings a scowl to my face, and I force myself to relax my expression. Smile. I have to smile. There's nothing to be scared of. I will not be factionless. I will belong somewhere. I will.

I step into a mirror-walled room bare of everything except a lounged chair and a whirring machine. An Abnegate man stands next to the chair, holding a vial of clear liquid. He nods to me, and I mirror him as I've been taught to do. Always be conscious of others' customs, my mother always tells me. Don't cause any conflicts. Be respectful. He ushers me to the chair.

"Please sit." He says to me in a low but pleasant voice. I do as he instructs while he turns to gather a few wires. He begins by attaching a few to my head, and I shiver when the adhesive pads touch my skin.

"It will not hurt, but if anything feels uncomfortable to you, please tell me right away." He says in that same hushed voice. I'm used to soft-spoken people, but where the Amity speak low out of peaceful tendencies, the Abnegate speak so out of respect.

He places the vial in front of my face and tilts it slowly to my lips. "Drink, everything will be fine." He tells me, and before I can ask what it is I swallow it. I feel the sudden urge to close my eyes, just for a second, and when I open them again I am no longer in the mirrored room. Instead I'm back in the cafeteria, but the other hopefuls are long gone. The slant of light in the window tells me it's almost dark. Snow falls softly behind the windowpanes. I take a deep breath.

On the table before me sit two baskets, one holding a block of cheese, the other holding a knife that looks sharper and longer than any knife I've seen in the Amity compound. It's definitely no butter knife.

"Choose." Comes a woman's voice somewhere behind me. It's a demanding, sharp voice, a voice full of cold and power. It sends shivers up my back. The urge to turn around and face the woman is strong, but my eyes are somehow glued to the knife. What would it be like to hold something so dangerous, just once? My fingers itch for it, but I know they shouldn't. The Amity don't like violence or anything associated to it. Something stirs under my skin.

"Choose." The voice says again, sharper, growing impatient. Without any more prodding I pick up the knife, surprised by its weight. Guiltily I think of my mother and the look of shock and disappointment she'd wear if she could see, but my grip tightens on the handle just the same. I feel a humming sensation in my gut that leaves me feeling giddy.

The baskets fade away into nothing, and a door creaks to my left. I turn, my stomach flopping when I see what's approaching me. A large dog with a pointed snout comes toward me slowly, its maw curled in a snarl that looks far from inviting. A scream chokes itself in my throat as it grows steadily closer; its ears back, growling loudly like tires over gravel. I step back, but that only makes it angrier. I look down at the knife, the hand that holds it trembling. Am I supposed to kill the dog with this? I look back towards my opponent, staring into the beady eyes of the beast. Will I even be able to hit it?

I don't have any more time to think on it. The dog lunges towards me, snarling, and I fall flat to the floor with a scream. It soars above my head and skitters to a stop farther away. It turns and charges towards me again, frothing at the mouth in a wild rage. There's no other way out of this. I have no choice. My hand fumbles for a tighter grip on the knife and I struggle to get back to my feet. It leaps. I make a jab. The beast falls on top of me with a heavy thump. Panting, I push it off of me and scramble away from it. Blood pools from around the handle of the knife, the rest stuck in the dog's underbelly. I cover my mouth, only to gag when I taste the blood on my fingers.

"Puppy!"

I snap my attention to a little girl in a white dress. She approaches me happily at first, but slows her pace dramatically when she sees the state of the dog. Her eyes turn away from it to look at me, her eyes, too big for her face, brimming with tears.

"What did you do to puppy?" she asks, her voice a tiny whimper. "What did you do to my puppy?" My chest tightens. Oh god, please don't tell me I just killed a little girl's dog. I swallow hard and stand up, wiping my hands on my pants. They come up clean, as if there was never any blood there to begin with. I could lie. I could say I found him like this, that I was trying to help it. It would keep me from conflicting with her, or her family. I can feel in my gut that telling her the truth will land me in serious trouble.

The little girl runs up to me and begins beating on my knees. She's crying openly, her face red with anger.

"I hate you I hate you!" she wails. "What did you do to my puppy! I hate you!" I look back towards the dog, my eyes focusing on the hilt of the knife. My hands tremble as I reach out to stop her tiny fists. I crouch down again to be eye-level with her, and I take a breath. I feel sick.

"I'm sorry." I say hoarsely. "It jumped at me. I thought it was going to kill me, so I killed it." Her face crumples into despair. "I'm sorry." I say again, but she pulls herself out of my grip and runs away. I try to chase after her, but I trip.

I push myself up with a gasp and find myself back in the chair, the Abnegate man staring down at me with pursed lips. He pulls the wires from my head with a solemnity that sets a chill to my skin. I try to remind myself that all the Abnegate look like this, but he keeps looking at me, too. It's not like the Abnegate to be curious about anything. My only thought now is that I failed.

He leaves the room silently, and I fidget in my seat. Something is wrong. A sweat breaks out on the back of my neck. He's going to come back and tell me I don't belong anywhere. He's going to tell me I'm factionless, that there's no hope for me. I wring my hands together and try very hard not to panic.

He comes back shortly and approaches me with a frown. Oh god, this is it. I'm factionless. I'm going to become an outcast. He places a hand on my shoulder, very outside the realm of Abnegate gestures. He leans in close._ Very_ outside the realm of Abnegate gestures.

"I'm placing you in the system as Candor, but that was not your true result." He murmurs to me in that same, soft voice, but there's a bit of urgency there where it wasn't before. "It was one of two, something nearly unheard of." He grips my shoulder and a gentle but tight squeeze. "Be very careful with your choice at the Choosing Ceremony, and tell no one you received more than one result." I suck in my breath. I'm relieved that I'm not factionless bound, but what is so terrible about two results that I mustn't tell anyone about it?

He releases me and steps back. He smiles warmly and dips his head. "I wish you health, child." He says before ushering me out as if nothing has happened between us. My mind churns over his warning. I can't make any sense of this. I mean, why warn me to not tell my results when we aren't supposed to, to begin with?

Clara looks up at me with a smile, though her face looks paler than it did before we split. "How'd it go?" she asks, standing. I force a smile, my stomach in knots.

"Fine." I say, but the instructor's warning still rings in my head.

That night, Clara creeps into my room. In her hands are her thick quilt and a pillow. She holds them up for me to see with a sheepish grin.

"I figured, since this might be the last time we're together, we could have a sleep over." She says. I put my book down to look at her.

"Are you planning on transferring out of Amity?" I ask. She shrugs at me and hops onto the edge of my bed.

"I'm just saying, you never know what will happen tomorrow. Maybe one of us will switch factions, maybe we won't." she replies cryptically. She smoothes down her blanket as I scrutinize her. I know her. She wouldn't be here right now if she wasn't worried about something. I sigh and toss my book completely to the side.

"Okay, tell me." I say. She gives me a look, her lips pursed.

"You know we can't talk about our results." She whispers, but it's obvious by the strain in her voice that she'd love to completely ignore that rule. I lean in and still her fidgeting hand with my own, eyes searching hers.

"We're twins, Clara. We're practically the same person." I tell her, and she lightens slightly at the joke. "You can tell me anything. I won't betray you." She stares at me a moment longer before sitting back, her pillow clutched in her lap. She stares off at a far wall and heaves a huge sigh.

"My result was Dauntless." She says so softly I almost don't believe what I just heard. I stare at her, mouth open. Clara, _Dauntless? _

"No way!" I cry, shaking my head. She looks at me in a panic and puts a finger to her lips.

"Not so loud!" she hisses angrily. "But yes, Dauntless. Apparently I'm as Dauntless as they come." She laughs with a twinge of bitterness and pulls her knees into herself, her chin resting on her pillow. "And the worst part is, I agree. I've never felt comfortable here, Cor. Not once. I'm not good with social interaction like you. I don't like gossip, or partying by the lake. I can't even stand half of our so-called friends. The Amity aren't supposed to think horrible thoughts, but I do. I'm…" she sighs, looking very much like she wants to burst into tears, "I'm too negative for this place. Too anxious."

"Clar," I start, my heart hammering in my throat. I clutch her arm tightly, knowing full well she can feel my hand trembling. "You're not planning to join the Dauntless, are you?" She looks at me, but she says nothing. She doesn't have to. "Clara, no! You can't! Do you have any idea what will happen to you if you do?" I can hear my voice rising, but I can't stop myself. Panic traps itself as a lump in my throat. "They're brutal! Their initiation alone sends shivers down the spines of every other faction! You could…" I choke on the word, "die. And if you don't die there's a huge chance of becoming factionless by the end of it! Clara, please promise me you won't go to Dauntless-"

"Why?" she suddenly snaps, pulling her arm away as anger flares on her cheeks. "You think I can't handle it? You think I'm not strong enough for them?"

"No!" I hiss. "I think you could get hurt with them, and I know it will kill mom to see you go with them. You know how she feels about the Dauntless, how we all feel." My mind wanders back to the one I bumped into the hallway this morning. He was only one of many instances where the Dauntless have proven themselves to be nothing but hellions. Not once have I ever met a kind Dauntless. She glares at me and scoots back off the bed, taking her stuff with her.

"It's stuffy in here." She says. "I think I'm just gonna go sleep in my own room."

"Clar-" I start, but she walks out the door without another word. I slump back, my chest tight and my face hot. I drape an arm over my eyes to block out the look on her face. I don't know what I'll do if she picks Dauntless tomorrow. I didn't even get to tell her about my own results. A part of me is kind of glad I couldn't.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**I'm posting the first four chapters up tonight. Please don't forget to leave your comments!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-M_q_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The morning is alive and jittery with boundless energy. Everyone is moving, going about their early chores with more vigor than usual. The sound of chatter and running feet is constant. I must be the only one still in bed.

I haven't slept a wink.

With a groan I force myself out from under my covers and shuffle over to my dresser. With slow, clumsy movements I pull my nightgown over my head. The movement catches my eye in the mirror, and I pause to take a look at myself. I make a face as I notice yet another deep mark around my hips. I've gained weight recently, and the end result has taken a toll on my once smooth skin. I touch one stretch mark that looks an ugly purple and wince at the memory of Clara asking me if it was a wound when she saw it at the lake. Sure it is, a wound on my pride.

With a sigh I turn from the mirror and sift through my top drawer. I pull out the first thing I see: a loose-fitting lace top with canary yellow flowers and burgundy red jeans. I throw them over a pale, wrinkled cami I found on the floor near my bed. It's likely that it's dirty in some way, but it smells clean enough to wear. I would probably care more if I weren't currently nervous enough to vomit.

Clara is going to choose Dauntless, and there's absolutely nothing I can do to stop her. I pause in my morning routine, stuck on the thought. I swallow hard, my eyes suddenly stinging beyond belief. She can't pick them. She just _can't._ She's as good as dead if she does, she should know that. She's so frail; she's not good with physical labor. She can't lift anything more than a basket of apples for goodness sake! I wipe at the tears on my face. I'm so frustrated at her, I just want to go and slap some sense into her. But if I did that I'd have to take the calming serum. I look over at my clock, and my heart skips a few beats. The trucks leave in less than twenty minutes. Actually, that serum is looking pretty good right about now.

As I exit my room a tanned arm loops its way though mine. Angelica smiles charmingly at me, her mustard yellow dress swishing as she skips at a pace that matches my reluctant footsteps.

"Morning sleepyhead." She teases. "You missed the morning laundry today, Mauve was giving her look all morning." She squints one eye at me, and in spite of myself I laugh. "She says since you were too tired to join us this morning you can join us in the kitchens for dinner tonight, scrubbing duty." I grimace, but not for the reason she thinks. I haven't had any time to think about my own Choosing today. If I choose to stay with the Amity then I'll have to face Mauve's gentle wrath, but if I don't…

I stop walking; Angelica notices. She smiles at me questioningly. "Everything okay?" she asks. When I don't answer her smile turns into a short frown. She squeezes my arm. "Hey, come on now, Cor. Scrub duty isn't all that bad. I'll even help you. We can go to the swimming hole after, if you want." I refocus on her, my returning smile quivering at the edges. Clara's face enters my mind.

"Okay." I say, keeping my voice as normal as I possibly can. I must have been successful, because her smile widens and she tugs me along at a much jollier pace.

"Oh! Here, I got this for you." She digs into her pocket to pull out a sweet roll wrapped in a cloth napkin. "Knowing you, you've forgotten to grab something before we board the trucks. You don't want to faint in the middle of the Choosing Ceremony, do you?" she drops the roll into my hand and kisses my cheek. I offer her another tight smile and look down at the roll. I haven't had any bread since my mother suggested I stop eating it about a month ago. My neck heats up at the memory. She hadn't meant anything by it, I think, but I've been conscious of myself ever since. Looking at the roll now, I realize I'm not even hungry. I thank Angelica all the same, but as we get in line to hop on the back of one of the trucks, I shove it into the hands of a boy nearby. He bites into it without even looking to see where it came from. That's the problem with the Amity; we're all too trusting for our own good.

"Will you stop that?" Clara stares pointedly at my urgently tapping foot, which I still immediately. I hadn't even realized I'd been doing it.

"Sorry." I whisper, but she ignores me again. This was the first time she'd spoken to me all day. I scan the span of the room to take in the crowds. All those participating in the ceremony stand in a semi-circle, lined up in alphabetical order. Clara stands on my left, while a boy from Candor stands on my other side. I sneak a glance towards the other side to see Angelica towards the end. She waves to me, and I wave back, glad she can't see my expression from so far away. Behind us I know my mother is watching, and I'm glad she can't see my face, either. I didn't get to see her before we boarded, but Clara did. I paid the price by deciding to stay in bed as long as I did, but I'm almost glad for it. If mom saw me, there's no doubt she would see the fear and worry etched into my face. I'm not as good at hiding it as Clara is.

In front of us, the leader from Erudite makes a speech. I don't listen closely to what she says, too preoccupied with trying not to vomit all over the tiled floor.

"Never seen an Amity frown as much as you are." The boy from Candor speaks up. I look at him in the corner of my eyes to see him looking with his head slightly tilted towards me, his body leaning down just a bit so he can speak without being overheard. From what I can see he's fairly handsome, with a clean-shaven face and dark hair. At his words, I force my face to relax.

"Didn't eat anything." I whisper back. "My stomach is eating itself. Very painful."

"Really," He drawls with a small grin that honestly could have just been imagined, "it must be for you to make a face like that. I've noticed you scowling since we lined up." I want to tell him he should mind his own business, but the Amity aren't rude, and until I go up for my Choosing I am still Amity. Instead I smile openly and tilt my face towards his, just enough to get a better look at him.

"Maybe you can treat me to lunch then." I say, but that's an impossible task. After the Choosing we leave with our factions. I probably won't ever see him again after this. He grins anyway and shakes his head slightly.

"Sure, and you can tell me what's actually bothering you while we're at it." He retorts. My smile almost slips in my second urge to be rude. Why should he even care?

"Those who blamed aggression formed Amity."

My attention turns back to the speaker at the mention of my faction, the boy forgotten as my stomach clenches. A few Amity boys grin and do a small dace at the introduction of our faction, and my eyes go to the bowl that symbolizes us. When I go up to choose, I will have to cut open my hand and drip my blood into one of the bowls. Will I pick Amity? I try to imagine my blood falling on soil, the smiles of my family knowing I made the best choice. I glance at Clara, but she stubbornly blocks me out, her gaze focused on the speaker. I clasp her hand, and while I expect her to shake me off she returns pressure instead. The tightness in my chest deflates a bit.

"Those who blamed duplicity created Candor."

I recall the Abnegate man telling me he placed Candor as my aptitude result. I straighten my shoulders, wondering just exactly what my other result was. I want to believe it was Amity, but I don't know how much I actually believe that. The memory of picking up the knife filters through my head and I close my eyes. I feel the Candor boy next to me shift his weight to his other foot, but I'm not curious enough to look at him again.

"Those who blamed selfishness made Abnegation."

I open my eyes again to look at Clara and remove my hand from hers. She's being selfish, if she chooses Dauntless. All that will do is get her killed, or worse, factionless. She'll be throwing her life away, and for what? Pride? Because she doesn't like her soft life in Amity?

"And those who blamed cowardice were the Dauntless."

I am a coward. I'm scared for my sister, but I have no idea how to stop her or, god forbid, let her go. I have too much fear. Too little faith. They won't protect her. They won't keep her safe.

I drown out the rest of the speech. I don't want to hear anymore. Applause sounds as the speech ends, and I clap along with the rest. Names begin being called, and I watch Angelica as she walks up to the middle of the room. She winces as the knife slides over her palm, but after she doesn't hesitate in dropping her blood into the soil of our faction's bowl. She beams as she walks away and rejoins our family. An older girl hugs her tightly, Janine, whom I've only met a few times.

One by one the others go up, and after the first twenty we get our first transfer. An Abnegate girl, switching to Candor. Murmurs rise from her faction, gray body after gray body turning to one another to discuss the distressing news. To switch factions is to become a betrayer, everyone knows that. Clara is stiff next to me, and I know she's thinking the same thing I am.

It's a long time before they get to us, and when they do Clara goes up first. When she steps forward I want to pull her back, to try to talk her out of the choice I can tell she's already made in her heart. Instead I clench my jaw and watch as she takes the knife into her hands, palm up to run it over her skin, grimacing when it stings. She takes one look at the crowd, probably meeting the eyes of our mother, and then she looks to me. I can feel the tightness in my face as we stare at each other. I can't stop her from doing this, I know that. But there is something I can do.

I watch as her blood sizzles into the flaming coals of Dauntless' bowl, my eyes focused on the flames as a collective, startled gasp rises from the Amity. The Amity sprout messages about peace and love, but it's no secret that we and the Dauntless do not see eye to eye on anything. A switch from Amity to Dauntless is the worst thing any of us could do. This is beyond traitorous. I close my eyes and wait for my name to be called. I breathe in.

"Cora Tinwell." I expel the air from my lungs and open my eyes. Clara is already standing with the Dauntless, her face red but refreshed. I step forward, and I hear the Candor boy wish me luck. I nod slightly to show my acknowledgement and move carefully towards the center of the room. I turn to face the crowd, and for the first time I search for my mother's face. Her lips are pursed, her mousy curls framing worried, gray eyes already brimming with tears. My heart cracks in two as I take the knife with shaking fingers. I look down at the polished metal, the simulation going through my head again. There's no humming this time, only fear. I look towards the Amity bowl and think of my mother and my friends. I have a good life at Amity, a safe life. If I choose them I can go back onto the trucks and sing to Henry's banjo. I can scrub the pots and go to in the swimming hole with Angelica and whoever else wants to join us. I can answer Colin's budding feelings without insecurities weighing down my choices. I can wake up every morning knowing I'll be taken care of and loved by my peers.

I look over to the Candor bowl, my reflection bouncing off the glass pieces and revealing hundreds of smaller copies of my face. I don't know much about Candor, but according to my test I belong there in some way. I glace sparingly at the boy who stood next to me, his honest eyes trained on me and my awaiting choice. Do all the Candor have eyes like his? So open and piercing with their honesty?

Finally I look back to the roaring flames of Dauntless' bowl; Clara's blood has already been eaten away by the coals. I look over at her again, the tightness in my chest so suffocating I feel close to giddy. We've never been without each other. Will she be okay without me there to help her? Will she have the same security in Dauntless as I will in Amity?

No, of course she won't.

I suck in my breath and drag the knife across my palm, biting on my lip when I cut deeper than I had meant to. I clutch my fist tightly as blood pools in my hand, heart pounding as I turn my back on the crowd. My eyes flit between the three bowls. Candor, Amity, and Dauntless. I know what I have to choose.

Tears crowd behind my eyes as I step forward and place my hand over the coals. My blood sizzles as it hits, and the Amity burst into a chaos of murmurs and tiny cries. I reach up for the bandana on my head and pull it loose, tying it securely over my injured hand. It stings, but it doesn't hurt nearly as much as the stricken look on my mother's face. I realize with a crippling weight on my chest that I've just made her childless. An ugly sob bubbles in my throat, but I refuse to let it go.

With wobbling legs I join Clara with the Dauntless chosen, looking once to Angelica, who cries into Janine's shoulder, and once to the Candor boy. His dips his head, but he's no longer smiling. I turn away from him to see Clara staring with her mouth open. I try to smile at her, and I force my hand to stay clutched at my side so the others can't see how much it's shaking. I feel very close to passing out.

I keep my attention on the Candor boy as he goes up to Choose. His expression doesn't change even as the knife cuts into his skin, and with one look at the crowd he turns and places his hand over the bowl filled with water. Erudite, then. He walks towards his new faction, his eyes meeting mine as he goes. I dip my head at him, as he had to me. His lips purse slightly, but behind them comes a short smile. It's the one thing I don't return. I was right in my thinking before. We won't see each other again.

Finally the ceremony is over. One by one the factions shuffle out, the Amity heading towards the elevators. I watch them go with a heavy heart, my friends and family with their backs towards me. I try to spot my mother in the red and yellow wave, but I don't see her. I do see Angelica, and the look she gives me is one I've never seen her wear before: utter despair. We were as close as sisters. I wonder if she's thinking back on our conversation before boarding the trucks. I wonder if her and my mother will comfort each other, or if Henry will lend her a shoulder to cry on. I wonder if my betrayal will be the spark that leads them into a long-awaited romance. I hope it does. I want something good to come out of this choice.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

When it's our faction's turn to leave, Clara grabs my arm. Her grip is tight, so tight it's painful. I didn't even know she hand this kind of strength.

"We need to talk." She says in a low voice. I turn to look her in the eyes, my heart skipping a beat at the pure anger I see there. I've never seen Clara angry, not like this. Anger is not a common emotion at the Amity compound. Though, I guess that doesn't matter now. Neither of us are Amity any longer.

"Fine." I say back and pull away. My arm feels tender where she gripped it, but I won't rub at it. A couple of the other transfers are looking at us. I do the same to them before looking around to count them all. One boy from Abnegate. A boy and a girl from Erudite. Three boys and a girl from Candor. And then Clara and me. Nine transfers. Beyond them I count the Dauntless born of our group. Eleven. They're all taller than me, even the girls. All of them are built like tanks. I glance down at the tiny bulge sticking out around my hips and press on it with my good hand. Already I am inferior.

Our group heads for the stairs. I've never taken the stairs before. The Amity have always opted out in favor of the elevator, most of us only wanting something to do with physical labor when he have to, like in the fields.

As quick as a snap of the fingers we start running. I struggle to keep up the pace of those around me, confusion making me clumsy. Whoops and hollers sound around me in glee. I look over to Clara to see her laughing. The pace speeds up as many Dauntless start jumping down flights of stairs three steps at a time. One Dauntless girl flies past me by sliding down the railing halfway before jumping down to a flight below. I watch her land ahead of the crowd, half amazed and half horrified. I thought she'd just killed herself, but she grins up at the rest of us, perfectly fine. A few more kids follow suit, and I hold my breath when Clara looks over the railing as if to try it too. When she turns away from the railing I release a relieved sigh. I don't think I could handle watching her jump to her death.

We burst out into the open air with a flurry of disorganized chaos. Laughter sounds in my ear, made by the boy from Erudite. A hand clasps mine, but when I turn to look I realize it's not Clara. It's the girl from Candor.

"Sorry, I didn't want to fall." She says quickly and releases me. I smile at her to show no harm done, but the hand she'd gripped was my wounded one. It throbs in pain, but I can't focus on it. By talking to the Candor girl I've lost sight of Clara.

"Clara!" I call, trying to weave my way through running bodies. I don't see her anywhere. My heart pounds. "_Clara!_" I screech, but my voice is drowned out by the crowing of other initiates. I think I hear her laughter somewhere ahead of me, but I still can't see her.

We turn the corner as one body, and the blaring of a train horn drowns out the shouting of the crowd temporarily. My insides grow cold. A memory of Dauntless kids jumping from a train to get to school filters through my thoughts. I don't remember the train ever stopping.

One by one the Dauntless born pick up speed and hop into the open carts. I see up ahead as Clara bursts forward with all her might and jumps. She manages to grab the railing, but the rest of her body slams against the outside of the cart. A scream catches in my throat, but it dies just as quickly when a Dauntless girl pulls her all the way back into the cart.

"Hey, look alive!" someone shouts behind me. Two of the Candor boys run past me, and I realize in terror that we're approaching the last open cart. I swallow hard and run with them. I can't miss it. If I do, I'm factionless.

The boys jump ahead of me, and I struggle to keep up. Hands reach out to help me, and with a frustrated scream I jump. Nails dig into my arm with the effort of pulling me in. Another hand grabs my shirt when I almost fall back out. I latch onto the nearest person and stumble the rest of the way in. The hands release me quickly as I slump to the floor of the cart, shaking. I look up to see who saved me, but I can't make them out amongst the other transfers. One of the Candor boys crouches next to me, followed by the Erudite girl.

"You alright?" she asks, rubbing my back as I force my breathing to return to a normal speed. I nod, but I'm lying. I'm not alright. I just almost fell out of a moving train.

The scenery picks up speed rather quickly. I watch it all go by in a blur, the silvers and blacks of the city's metal buildings quickly giving away to the green pastures I'm more familiar with. Clara is a few carts ahead of me, probably watching our world go by, like I am. I think back at her laughing face as we ran, and I wonder if she's even remotely sad to leave this place behind.

The Candor girl who grabbed my hand scoots over to sit next to me and smiles. I offer one back, but it's hardly genuine.

"I saw you talking with my brother at the Ceremony." She says. "I'm Alex."

"Cora." I tell her, and I take a good look at her. I wouldn't have known they were related if she hadn't told me. Unlike him her hair is light, shining like copper in the setting sun. She's lanky, and tall, and her teeth look a little too big for her mouth. Her eyes, though, they're the same. Hers are filled with the same piercing honesty that his were. I find I like those eyes very much.

"What made you choose Dauntless?" she asks me. "I mean, most Amity stay in their faction, and I've never actually heard of one who's switched to Dauntless before. But both you and your sister switched…" I turn my face away and shrug. I don't feel like talking about it so soon after it's happened.

"We aren't really supposed to talk about it." I answer softly. I'm hoping she'll leave it at that; that she won't try to pry the answer out of me. Usually only Erudite do that. When I look back at her she's still smiling, but I can see a hint of disappointment behind her dark eyes.

"Okay." Is all she says and looks back at the scenery. I heave a sigh, relieved. We sit in silence for awhile, watching the world grow darker the farther we go from the city. Finally she turns back to me, her eyes curious again.

"What were you and Emmet talking about before the Choosing?" she asks. I look back at her, temporarily confused.

"Who?"

"My brother."

"Oh," I say, and turn away again. I look across from us and catch the eyes of the Erudite boy, whose dark bangs sweep to one side and cover part of his eye. I don't hold the gaze for very long before moving on to the next set of transfers, who look like they're distracting themselves with a hand game. "He wanted to know why an Amity girl was frowning so much."

"And what did you tell him?"

"I told him my stomach hurt because I hadn't eaten anything, but he could tell I wasn't telling the whole truth." Of course he did. He's a Candor, or he was. Now he's an Erudite. I look back at Alex. "Truthfully, I was nervous for my Choosing. I didn't want him to know that." Alex grins more openly at me and leans her head back to rest against the wall.

"I'm sure you weren't the only one." She replies buoyantly. "We were both freaking out not minutes before going to our places. How come you didn't want him to know?"

I shrug again, but this time I smile back. "Because I thought he was cute." I reply. Very Amity of me. She laughs.

The train begins to slow down again, a sure sign that we're reaching our destination. My heart speeds up again at the thought of jumping out. A Candor boy looks out before quickly getting back in.

"Everyone up! They other carts are getting off!" Alex and I stand, and I press my hands against the wall to balance myself as I move forward. I peek out the side, my stomach flopping when I see the others jumping onto what looks like a rooftop. It wouldn't be so bad if the train tracks weren't seven stories up.

"Oh my god." I hear myself say. Alex grabs my arm as I begin to sway to the side.

"Come on, girl, get a grip." She tells me. "We have to jump, so don't faint yet." I clutch her arm and take a gulp of air.

"I'm not going to pass out." I tell her, but the lightheadedness I feel would love to prove me wrong. She let's go of my hand as the roof approaches.

"We'll jump on three." She says, and I gulp. The roof is approaching fast. If we don't jump at the right time, the gap will only get bigger.

"Let's make it on two." I say. She nods. The Erudite boy stands in front of us, along with the only Abnegate transfer. They jump roughly around the same time, but I don't have any time to see if they made it, because it's my turn.

"Two!" Alex screams, and I jump. Air rushes around me, and my limbs flail as the wind catches them. The bandana on my hand comes loose and flies away. I gasp as the ground gets closer, and a sense of dread overwhelms me. My calculations were off; I didn't jump as far as I was supposed to. At this rate I'll just barely make the roof. I just catch a glimpse of Clara's alarmed yell as I stray just short of solid ground.

I scream, my hands reaching out for something, anything, to latch onto. I manage to grab the gutter, but it's old and worn. Part of it comes away with me, leaving me dangling over the ground far, far below. My feet kick at the air as I desperately try to propel myself back towards the roof. It works, but not as fast as I'd like. My hands start to slip, slick with the blood from my wound. Clara appears over the side, her hands just barely reaching mine. She's not close enough for me to grab her safely.

"Someone, help us!" she screams behind her, and when she looks back at me I can tell she's crying. I plant my feet on the wall, trying to think clearly past the panic. If I can push myself up just a little bit more I can reach her. I push up with everything I've got, and I'm glad I'd thrown on my work boots in my haste to get ready as they easily grip the wall. I grit my teeth as the rusted metal digs into the cut on my hand, but I ignore the pain to reach up to Clara. Someone pushes her out of the way and reaches down to me. He grabs me easily and hauls me forward, and I recognize his grip as the same that stopped me from falling off the train. I run up the wall to help get some momentum, and I fall to my hands and knees on the gravel, heart pounding in my ears. I look up into a strong but grim face. Clara's arms go around me as she sobs into my shoulder. The boy turns away, and I notice for the first time that his shirt is gray. As my legs gain feeling in them again, I realize that the Abnegate boy has already saved my life twice today.

"Are you okay?" Alex asks, helping me get back to my feet.

"Yeah." I tell them, smearing the dirt and blood covering my still shaking hands. "Yeah, I'm good now." I look to Clara. "Are you alright?" Clara lets go of me, finally calming down enough to look angry again.

"I'm fine." She says, hardness in her voice. "I just thought you'd fallen to your death is all. I'm just peachy." I realize she's being highly sarcastic right now, but before I can retort she turns away again and goes back to the Dauntless she was in the cart with. Alex pats my back.

"Don't worry about it." She whispers in my ear. "Emmet would have acted the same if it were me." I know she's not just saying that since she's from Candor, but my stomach clenches anyway. Clara and I are Amity, we don't act sarcastic. We don't fight like this, either. I watch her back as she walks ahead of us, clutching my still bleeding hand. It's like she's already turning into one of them.

"Alright, listen up!" a new voice barks. At the other end of the roof stands a man with lines etched into the corners of his eyes and mouth and silvering hair. I'm surprised to see an older person in the Dauntless ranks, though he is very fit for his age. "My name is Max." he tells us once we all quiet down. "I'm one of the leaders of your new faction." He walks along the edge of the roof casually, just as unstable as the other end. My lips purse together as I watch him. A Dauntless leader indeed. "Several stories below is the entrance to our compound. I want you to jump down there one at a time. If you can't do it-" He arcs his thumb over his unshaven neck, "-you don't belong here. Who wants to go first?"

No one moves an inch. I watch as a few initiates peer down into the darkness below, a few of them growing pale with fear. I look to Alex, and then I look to Clara. Her shoulders square up, her chin tilted high as if she hadn't just been crying her eyes out seconds ago. Oh no.

"I'll do it." She says, and I shut my eyes tightly to pinch out the migraine forming. A groan escapes me in spite of myself, causing Alex to look over at me. She nudges my arm and forces me to open my eyes. I look over to see the Abnegate boy looking over at me as well. My neck flares, because it's obvious by the deep frown on his face that he heard me, too.

Max steps aside for Clara to stand at the edge. She looks down, and I can tell her courage is gone as quick as it had come. She takes a step back and jumps on the ball of her heels. She's stalling.

"Come on Softie, we don't got all day!" someone shouts, and I whip my head around to catch the speaker. One Dauntless boy pushes another with a grin. My fists shake, but this time it's with anger. The jab was enough to get Clara moving though. With a deep breath she steps forward again, her arms out in front of her as she falls into the pit. She's gone in the second blink.

"Next!" Max calls, ushering the Erudite boy forward. He seems nervous as he looks down into the darkness, but he doesn't take as long as Clara to jump. The Abnegate goes next, not even bothering to look before diving into nothing. Alex urges me forward ahead of her, but I'm ready by this point. With a running start I jump, but this time I don't worry about missing something. I just focus on falling and on how long it takes to reach the bottom.

When I do hit the ground it knocks all of the air out of my lungs. I gasp as I stare up at the roof's edge, the rest of the initiates nothing but black specks from where I lay. I hardly register that I've landed in a net until more hands reach out from the sides of it to pull me out. Voices cheer for me and pat my back as I walk away, but my eyes are searching for Clara.

She's waiting off to the side below the wooden platform where I stand. Her anger looks like it's all but dissipated, though she might just be hysterical from jumping off a roof.

"Wasn't that great?" she asks when I join her. I grimace. I've jumped out into seven stories of nothing twice today, and I almost died the first time. Great would not be my first word choice.

More cheers erupt as Alex appears from the net. She waves to me, and I wave back. To my left I see the Erudite boy again, and I notice he's staring over at us, over at Clara. I'm not surprised, since she volunteered to jump first. She's an Amity with the courage of a Dauntless. Suddenly, I feel very proud of my younger sister.

"I thought you'd need this." comes a voice over my left shoulder, as well as what looks like some fresh gauze. I follow the arm back to meet a boy much older than I am with tanned skin and dark eyes. And wearing all black. He drops the gauze into my good hand and points to my other one. "When I pulled you from the net I got a better look at it. Make sure you get it cleaned up correctly. The gauze is just for right now until you can get it looked at."

"Oh, um," I look down at the gauze and back to my wound, which is openly bleeding again. "Thanks." I reply lamely. The boy grins.

"I'm actually really surprised to see an Amity down here. And two at that!" he exclaims with a small chuckle. He pats my back with a slightly rough hand. "My name is Amar. Welcome to Dauntless."

* * *

**Author's Note;**

**Well, that's it from me tonight. I'm going to try having a set schedule for chapter updates, but we'll see how long that actually lasts. Right now I'll give a tentative schedule of one chapter each two weeks. **

**Don't forget to leave your constructive comments, and thanks for reading!**

**-M_q_**


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